A Little Death
by Mia-Zeklos
Summary: On her wedding day, Bellatrix makes the only plan that could possibly save her from pointless existence for the rest of her life - or at least, that's the way she sees it. Written for Allons-y Lovelies's Sherlock Competition on the Harry Potter Challenges Forum.


_Written for Allons-y Lovelies's Sherlock Competition with the prompt "write about somebody who doesn't make friends that easily" and the word prompt "hunched"._

**Author's Notes: Hello, my dearest readers. If you look right at your screen you will see your (not) much missed fanfiction author getting back into shape with this stuff.**

**Writing from Bellatrix's point of view is always sort of tricky, no matter with which part of her life I fiddle with, so let me know what you think. I'm anxious about it.**

**The thing in the beginning is from T. S. Eliot's **_**The Waste Land **_**and the **_**Love is a little death between two little lives, nothing more**_** part is from **_**Blinded No More **_**by Sonata Arctica. Of course, so many years ago, Bellatrix wouldn't have known or heard about that, mostly because it wouldn't have existed yet, but… just let me do my timey-wimey stuff, okay? And, of course, enjoy.**

_She turns and looks a moment in the glass,_

_Hardly aware of her departed lover,_

_Her brain allows one half-formed thought to pass:_

"_Well now that's done: and I'm glad it's over"_

By the time the last gusts were departing, Bellatrix was already completely exhausted – mostly emotionally. She didn't care about any lady-like behavior anymore; she was sitting in one of the white chairs near a table in the Lestrange mansion's garden, her head hidden in her hands and her back hunched despite the corset of the dress.

Bellatrix gave said dress another look and smiled. It was basically the only thing she had chosen herself when it came to the wedding. The white corset was strapless and richly ornamented, while the skirt was of simple, plain satin and flowing down to the ground. Her hair was held up with small flowers – only a few strands, anyway. The rest was left down in its usual black, thick tresses.

Everybody she had talked to tonight had complimented her. On her dress, on her hair, on her choice of husband, as if he was a part of the accessories. Some of the guests had smiled rather patronizingly and told her that she'd finally got over the 'strange ideas she used to have when she was younger' and had settled down.

She detested each and every one of them.

"Bella?" Rodolphus's voice came from behind her and she grimaced. She had hoped for a few more moments of peace before he had to deal with this. With him. "Are you all right?"

"Of course." She tried to keep the annoyance out of her voice and failed miserably. "Were these the last ones?" She asked, nodding towards the people currently leaving the place. Rodolphus followed her gaze.

"I think so," he said carefully, sensing her mood for the first time tonight. "Would you like… I don't know. We can have a glass of wine if you'd like? Before we go to bed?"

"Sure. Why not." This was better than anything else she could imagine happening tonight.

It was strange, she thought as he left; the way she couldn't bring herself to even tolerate him now, once they were married. Back at school, they'd been friends. Good friends, even. It hadn't been all that bad as it was now.

Even when she was still a teenager, Bellatrix Black didn't do 'friends'. There were people she didn't want around and people she could use for something, one way or another. The only exceptions were her sisters and the Lestrange brothers – even though Rabastan was sometimes too much for her to stand.

When she was about fifteen, she had been already old enough to figure out that Rodolphus was in love with her. She found it flattering and rather funny – and even mildly entertaining sometimes, when she was bored out of her mind. Rodolphus could be fun if he wanted to – be it for harassing younger students or a quick snog in the nearest broom cupboard. They've had a great time sometimes and, with him around, Bella could freely discuss this so-called 'Dark Lord' that was rapidly gaining popularity – and power. She could talk about her (not so slight) affection to the dark magic and say exactly what she thought without having to worry about any consequences on the 'family name and honour' – both things she was reminded of way too often.

And yet, once their engagement was announced, something had changed. The uncomfortable silence that Bellatrix had thought she wouldn't have to deal with when it came to Rodolphus settled in, and neither of them could really explain why. Sure, every couple when through the shock in the first moment they realised that there was no going back now, but this – this was something different. Something Bellatrix had no control of; something she wasn't sure she could and would go through.

She remembered what her sisters had said about love. Narcissa, who was still only sixteen, had met Lucius and had described it as the best feeling in the world – something that had always been there, she said, and was only waiting to be found. According to Cissy, love was something you had hidden somewhere inside you since birth and only realised it was there when the right person came along. Bellatrix was pretty sure she wasn't capable of anything even remotely close to what Narcissa had with the Malfoy kid.

Then there was Andy and if there was anyone Bellatrix loved without doubt, that'd be the one. While Cissy had always been the little sister that Bella felt the need to protect from anything, Andromeda was the one that she could trust with absolutely everything – or that was what she had thought.

And then Andromeda had betrayed her – had betrayed everybody – by running off with that Mudblood of hers. When her younger sister had first told her about him, Bellatrix had been mildly disgusted, even if it was a one-time thing and, just a few minutes later, when Andromeda had dropped the bomb and told her that it's serious, she hadn't been able to understand. Why would she do that? What had he done that was special enough to make Andromeda follow him and leave everybody – leave her sister – behind? The only explanation she had got was – yet again – 'love'.

_Love is a little death between two little lives, nothing more. _Bellatrix wasn't sure where she had heard that, but it seemed the only good definition of 'love' to her. What good had it done to anybody? What good had it done to Rodolphus – marrying a woman that would never really love him in return, just to have, of nothing else, the ghost of the family he actually wanted?

As if her thoughts had summoned him somehow, the man suddenly appeared, a glass of wine in each hand, biting his lower lip hesitantly. She knew perfectly well what that meant. Rodolphus bit his lip when he didn't know what to say or wasn't sure that whatever he wanted to say was a good idea.

By that point, Bellatrix kind of wished he had brought Firewhisky. It wouldn't stop the headache that was currently torturing her, but at least she'd be able to fall asleep faster later.

"Well?" Rod said nervously; his hair unruly and his eyes uncertainly meeting hers. He looked younger than ever and Bellatrix tried really hard not to snap at him, just for the sake of the pity she could feel raising its head inside her as he looked at her like a puppy that expected to be kicked.

"Well what?"

"What… How… How are you feeling?" Her recently acquired husband blurted out. Bellatrix shrugged, probably with more indifference than the question suggested. Truth was, she wasn't even angry anymore. She wasn't annoyed or sad or anything. She was just sort of there and that terrified her more than anything ever had. "Fine."

She gritted the word out, completely in contrast with its meaning, as she realised just how bad things were. Was this everything her life would be from now on? Boredom and wine and small talk near the table and the occasional hope that Rodolphus would go somewhere out, just so she could get rid of him and slowly, without even realizing it, growing old and dying without having done one remarkable thing in her life?

No. Not her. Never her. Quiet determination filled Bellatrix as she wordlessly sipped from her wine every now and then and half an hour later, when Rodolphus stood up to go back to the mansion, she saw a flicker of the Dark Mark burned onto his arm, she felt a small smile curl her lips. That Mark was what could get her exactly where she wanted to be.

For the first time in her life, Bellatrix was very impatient to meet a rather fast-expanding group of people.


End file.
